Summer in Chernarus
by Iwillnevertell12345
Summary: A collection of stories and experiences from survivors living in Chernarus after the viral outbreak.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This series is mostly just for me to practice differing character traits and writing styles. I decided I would share with the community to get some feedback and opinions. Advice and critique is always welcome and appreciated.**

Bandit Camp

Green trees, billowing wheat fields, and blooming flowers; it's summer in Chernarus. The rumble of a truck engine, bullets, and bodies; there are bandits in Chernarus. While lying in a grassy knoll, just within earshot, I watched them through the scope of my rifle.

Three bandits had captured a pair of poor, desperate survivors. They had been stuffed into a make-shift box of barbed wire. The bandits shouted and shot the ground around their captives' feet.

One of the bandits tossed an axe into the cage and said, "Kill 'em."

The hostages hesitated.

"Either one of ya dies, or ya both die!"

The survivors looked at each other. They spoke to one another, but I couldn't hear what they said. One kneeled down and rested on his knees. The other reluctantly picked up the axe. I had to look away from the gruesome sight. When I looked back, the one that had been on his knees was surrounded by a puddle of his own blood and the other was trembling.

A bandit started complaining that he was thirsty. He and one other bandit climbed into their truck and drove away, leaving the last bandit to look after their prisoner. I shot him; one bullet, right in his temple. As he fell over dead, the newly-rescued prisoner dropped to the ground and covered their head. I lowered my rifle and walked to the cage.

I cut down a segment of the wire and told them to count to ten before trying to leave. It was just enough time to vanish from sight and return to my hiding place. The survivor took the bandit's gear and disappeared into the wilderness. I waited for the other bandits to return.

The truck slowly pulled into the camp. One of the bandits got out of the truck to check his friend's corpse while the other stayed behind and kept the truck running. I took aim and started shooting. I peppered the truck first; one bullet in the tire, two in the engine block, and one right in the driver's eye socket.

By now, the last bandit had realized where the shots were coming from and returned fire. High caliber rounds flew over my head. I rolled behind a tree and slung my rifle behind my back. I watched him advance up the hill, suppressed pistol trembling with adrenaline in my hand. He stopped to reload, so I took the chance. The invisible _hiss_ of my pistol rang through only my ears.

I must have fractured his leg because he fell to the ground, screaming in agony. He was bleeding too. He tried to hide and bandaged his wound, so I made another. He didn't seem to have a way to stop the bleeding this time. I took one last shot, and we both knew how this would end. He frantically crawled to his truck in futile attempt at delaying the inevitable. He soon lost consciousness and stopped moving. As he was lying there in the tall grass, his life pouring from his abdomen, I walked away and left him in the hands of fate.


	2. Chapter 2

Best Friend

The door burst open. In a flurry of heat and force, he exploded into the room. I watched as he threw things into the air. They would flutter or plummet to the ground, only to be rocket back toward the ceiling moments later. He seemed to be searching for something, though I failed to gather what that was. From the flames that licked the back of his pupils, I knew it would be wise to stay quiet, lest I become the next volunteer for a lunar expedition. With a strenuous roar, he vanished as quickly as he appeared. I looked through his wake of destruction with quiet horror. It was as if a tornado had ripped through the room. I followed him out into the front yard. Our home was in the center of a vast field. The rolling hills absolutely infested with grass told me it was summer in Chernarus. I found him sitting alone in the field. I sat next to him. When he looked at me, I could see that the flame in his eyes had been replaced by the ripples of disturbed water. His face was twisted, but he was no longer the roaring monster he had been just minutes ago. He placed his hands on either of my cheeks and pressed his forehead against mine.

The words quivered out from his mouth, "I'm sorry."

I couldn't understand what he meant. What did he need to apologize to me for? As I stared at him with addled eyes, he picked something up and pressed the end of it to his chest. There was a deafening blast. It startled me and made me wince. When I looked back, he was sprawled across the grass, with a strange fluid seeping from his body. The stench it emanated was overpowering, but I didn't want to leave him alone. I felt as though he needed something from me. I wanted to know what he meant. He napped for some time. I tried to nudge him and wake him, to no avail. He wouldn't move. I sat and waited until the sun rose. It couldn't have been very long since my stomach had only growled once. I suddenly heard a noise.

"Here boy," someone said in an inviting tone, "You hungry?"

I turned to the noise and saw two strange men. One was holding something in his hand. I could smell it. The aroma was intoxicating. It made my mouth water. I cautiously stepped toward them. I wanted to know what that alluring thing was and why it smelled so good.

"That's it, buddy. Have some pork. Is that your master?"

I sniffed the "pork." I decided to accept his gift and took it from his hand. I can't describe the taste. It was like nothing I had ever tasted before. I enjoyed it immensely. The men conversed while I eagerly gobbled down my meal.

"Looks like the poor bastard just couldn't take anymore."

"What do we do with the dog?"

"He'd make hunting a lot easier, and the zeds don't eat animals."

I finished my meal just as the men started to leave. One of them beckoned to me.

"Come on, boy. We've got plenty more meat back at the camp."

I looked back at my friend, who was still lying in the grass. I had this strange feeling that I should leave with the visitors. I tried to fight the temptation. I didn't want to leave my friend behind. I didn't want him to be alone. I began to feel as though something other than my own inclination was urging me to leave. It was a warm feeling. It was a sullen feeling. I followed the men with a degree of reluctance. I looked back at my friend one more time. He had finally woken up and wandered back into the house. I silently bid him farewell and followed my new friends to my new home.


	3. Chapter 3

Bird of Prey

I moved through the countryside. I traveled the barren hills, sticking to the decrepit forests on the outskirts of tiny rural towns dotting the landscape. I moved quietly, refraining from using my weapons and avoiding conflict with the "locals." I used my hatchet to hunt wild boar and stopped at small streams to keep my instinctual needs at bay. I came to the forest I was to meet my crew in, just east of Grishnio, when I saw a can of beans lying on the ground. It was our signal.

I called out, "Star!"

The trees billowed as the wind gently brushed their leaves aside as if to say, "Shaddup."

A bush rustled, then stood up. However, this was no Bigfoot; it was my best buddy in a Ghillie suit! I greeted him in the usual fashion – with plenty of slurs – to which he replied similarly. He then led me to our Ural, which was cleverly hidden amidst a large clump of trees. We climbed in back and were on our way. We drove out of the forest and returned to the road. We had a merry time recounting stories of near-fatal occurrences and plans gone awry.

I heard an unfamiliar sound approach subtly. It was eerie and filled me with a sense of dread. Suddenly, as if some god were loosing his rage, the wind roared. I saw explosions charge up the road, one after another. I could barely hear a thing, but, as the driver swerved off the road, I caught a glimpse of it. Wings of Death… Super-Hornet… a jet, tore through the skies in the blink of an eye. The truck clipped a tree and rolled.

Barely conscious and barely breathing, I could hear the hungry snarls of the walking corpses as they wandered closer from town. By the blood on the window in the back of the cab, I assumed the driver was gone. I dragged my dear friend from the wreckage and draped him over my shoulders. I made a dash for a nearby barn, narrowly dodging those shambling heaps of rotted flesh. The screech of the jet engine and the delirious rambling of my rattled pal nearly drowned out the sound of the footsteps that reminded me I was still alive.

The jet turned to make another run. I watched it pirouette and slice through the wind as it twisted into a dive headed straight for me. As it came closer, I knew what came next. With all of my might, I tossed my friend as far as I could. The explosions dashed toward me once more. My body and the zombies chasing me moved slowly, but the explosions charged forward, as if unhindered by the passage of time. I watched my paralyzed partner smash through a window and disappear into the shadow of the barn.

As the flames enveloped me, the last thing I could see was a luscious green field being invaded by vibrant gold strands of wheat. It was beautiful and so captivating. It's a shame that it would be the last time I could ever see the shining scenery of summer in Chernarus.


End file.
